


The Last Manhunt

by whoscountinganyway



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A little bit of Karlnap, A little bit of Skephalo, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Kissing at Midnight, M/M, Manhunt - Freeform, Minecraft, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Smut, Pining Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Pining GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), That means not a lot of details but you know what happens when it gets spicy, The Nether (Minecraft), This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Weednap isn't my favorite but he's definitely not always a sober man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:22:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29805594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoscountinganyway/pseuds/whoscountinganyway
Summary: Dream is a terrifying man to go against in a fight.All the hunters know what he's capable of, how intelligent and fast-thinking he is, how he can manipulate and lie his way out of a lethal situation. And that's what Dream likes -he likes outsmarting everyone.He likes the explosion of dust that comes when he kills one of the hunters, he likes the slaughter after the chase. That's normal, that's natural to feel good about your achievements.But when George, one of the hunters, one of the people supposed to be killing him thinks about that he feels...excited. He shouldn't, he knows that.Doesn't change that his heart still races when he sees Dream do something so, so risky but so clever at the same time.It doesn't make George hate Dream any more, either.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 16
Kudos: 60





	1. The Sunset is Great from the Top of Desert Temples

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pretty Boys and Sharp Knives](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27788737) by [crustyysam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crustyysam/pseuds/crustyysam). 



> Hey, it's the author here, keep in mind the tags will be changing but nothing significant!! If you have any suggestions for future chapters please comment, I'm open to all! 
> 
> In this, they don't play Minecraft, they're in it so they all respawn, have inventory, weapons and heal rather quickly. 
> 
> I'm in love with this fandom, so hello to everyone reading this I hope you enjoy! Anywhore, onto the book-

After being on the same land for a while Dream tended to learn little things about the space they're in very fast, and that didn't bother the hunters so much as how he was able to use that against them -to turn the tables, kill them effortlessly and be able to trick them like it was innate knowledge they should have known all along.

George felt like this was one of those times when Dream had something up his sleeve, when he'd have to accept defeat.

One of those times he couldn't even be mad about it.

_Fuck Dream for being so smart._

The speedrunner is currently leading him and Sapnap out into the desert, leading up the hills only to tumble back down. Every time the two hunters thought they had the lead, Dream would out run them again.

It seemed hopeless, it really did.

_They should have waited for Bad._

George really didn't know about this fight either, he heard the occasional laughter from Dream just as the apparent maniac was about to be caught telling the older boy _he's not scared_ in such a deviously way that made all of this seem like a trap waiting to happen.

Though Sapnap was perhaps one of the best fighters George had ever seen, he was still extremely temperamental and when things didn't go his way, or frustrated him Sapnap had two modes: Cocky threats and violent chaos. 

The latter was always his first choice.

Because of this, between the moments they had to sprint after the energy-full Dream where both men had to catch their breath, when George managed to tell Sapnap they're running to their deaths all Sapnap had to say was "We can take him George!" and "Stop being a big baby and let's do this!"

Really, George should have expected this.

Sure, they were on the same team but that never stopped the two of them from arguing so much that even Dream has broken them up- -before killing the cursing, squirming temperamental man, because when Sapnap and George are left alone too long it's like their braincells shut down and they forgot who exactly Dream was- -and that certainly never meant Sapnap listened to exactly what George said.

They've died enough times during chases they've learned to do the little things, that makes being killed rather ruthlessly seem a little better.

Like putting all their valuables in chests, giving Bad any enchantment levels they had so Dream can't collect it, they learned to only leave good boots on. That fucker always liked the trees and wasn't afraid to jump, wasn't afraid to break something.

It was like a game to him, really.

This was Dream's chessboard, and George was nothing but a pawn to throw away, come and go as needed. When in doubt, you move a pawn.

Dream moves him, with twists and turns, never letting George know what way he's being pulled -just knowing that it's happening, and there's nothing he can do about it. If George wanted to do something about it, anyway.

He's not sure if he does or not.

It's purely because of the little moments, the glimpses of the real Dream he gets to experience that takes him from this untouchable deity-like monster to _human._

The loud, all too-annoying but god, so contagiously beautiful full belly laugh Dream has is half of it.

No monster could laugh like that.

Even Sapnap smiles when he hears Dream's laugh, and he's the one who wants to kill the speedrunner the most.

Right now, that same laugh was mocking George, who had stumbled to a stop to take a breath. Sapnap was still running, basically in circles now as Dream taunted them with his presence on top of the Desert Temple.

"Leave me alone!" Dream shouts. "Or you won't like what happens."

"Why would we leave you alone, silly boy? We want you dead!"

There were few moments George thought Sapnap could become a good serial killer. This was one of those. Only one other hunt for Dream ever sprouted that thought, one where Sapnap outmatched him every way.

George and Bad couldn't keep up that day but that didn't matter, the other hunter had full diamond, an enchanted sword- -that made George cringe thinking how much they spent on it- -and a speed potion that should have put him miles ahead of Dream's possible capabilities.

Sapnap made it clear from the moment they left camp - _today's the day, today's the day Dream dies. The day I win._

The day he was supposed to become a hero.

Instead, Dream still beat him.

Maybe it was that day he went from a human monster, to something more.

Dream did warn them, in fairness. He does tend to do that, tell them exactly what he's going to do. Kill them, throw them off a cliff, drop them in lava, burn their things or kill their pets if they don't leave him alone.

Sometimes, when they have too much stuff on them, they listen.

Many times it starts like "There's three of us with good stuff, we can take him!" and ends with them respawning hundreds of yards away at camp, having to hopelessly restart their journey again.

Which George figured this moment would mimic the second Sapnap got frustrated enough to pearl onto the top of the Desert Temple Dream's on in hoping of catching the Speedrunner off guard.

To say that didn't work would be an understatement.

Dream's axe was coming down into the spot the Ender Pearl had exploded, Sapnap's chest spawning into the area not a second later.

Sapnap let out one solid scream, voice cracking in pain before his body turned to dust and George was forced to imagine Bad's surprise when one of his teammates strolled out of a tent- -Sapnap always had a way to act like everything was okay, even when he was mad he didn't like to admit defeat- -like he had never left at all.

Then he'd realize why.

It was also one of those days where they'd wait for George to respawn too, thinking his death was just as likely. The Desert Temple was too far away for Bad and Sapnap to make it before George had to either defend himself, or run away.

They didn't know that Dream always let him run away.

Sometimes he made it home when they fell asleep and because they didn't talk about death- -real death wasn't that big of a thing for hunters like them- -they didn't question him. Other times it was a skeleton, George _hates_ skeletons, or he was so exhausted that he just _dropped._

Cliffs aren't his favorite. Ravines are probably the place he's died the most, that and the Nether.

George will never admit it, especially to Sapnap, but he's afraid of heights.

When he gets on the edge his mind freezes and his instincts kick in. Then, before he knows it, he's sitting back up in bed and having to rush to collect his things again. Nobody will ever know it, know why, because the only thing that could tell them was George's bones.

His mind freezes, his mouth is silent.

But his bones say _when George was was ten his step-father threw him off the side of the cliff because he couldn't work as long as his step-brothers._

Dream's hurt him, oh, _of course_ he's hurt him. _Dream's the monster here._ But he's never killed him. Never taken his life. Not like he has Bad. Nothing like the long, drawn out fights with Sapnap.

With George, Dream just has calm, dangerous demeanor. 

One that told George something between _if you want to come get me, you can_ and _if you don't run, I'll take you_ and the hunter didn't know in what way, all he knew was between them- -him and Dream- -things were different.

He did know however that it was always, always his choice.

For the longest time, all George thought when he looked at Dream was _he's everything I lack._ Dream was contagiously funny when he wanted to be, at the times both parties were too tired to fight and the speedrunner would crack jokes under his breath.

Once he made a joke that made Sapnap laugh so hard he slipped off the edge of a Nether Fortress and fall into lava.

If George found that funnier than the joke, well, nobody would know.

So yeah, Dream was funny, despite being infuriating with his stupid confidence and stupid comeback. With his taunts and how he mocked them.

Not to mention he knew exactly how to get on George's nerves -tease him. In front of the others, no less.

_Just tell me you want me, George._

_George, c'mon, just say you think I'm hot._

_Awh George, you're so pretty._

_Don't tell me you're scared, George, do you need to hold my hand?_

Oh, how that pissed off George. Because _fuck_ Dream for saying all the perfectly wrong things to make him blush. Fuck him for flirting with someone _literally trying to kill him._ Still, that only reminded the hunter that there was a natural food chain.

Dream was the only apex predator here.

Yet him, this overly confident athletic speedrunner of a jerk was the one George dreamed about at night. Most of the dreams were good, really good, some of them were nightmares -about Sapnap and Bad finding out. About Dream turning on him, on finally killing the hunter. About him getting what George thought was now well deserved revenge.

When it was just the two of them, they didn't hurt each other.

Sure, sometimes they bicker and insult each other if they find the other in their cave- -George had a sneaking suspicion that Dream always knew where he was. Or, at least knew enough to avoid him. Either way, Dream only showed up when George was alone, when the other hunters were hundreds of yards away- -or getting resources from the same village. And Dream always, always flirted. Either with his words, or with that cocky smirk that implied more. Sometimes for the laughs, the relief that comes with not having to fight, but other times just to see him blush.

George hated when he implied things, because then it made George have to wonder, have to guess.

The things he came up with always made him go red.

Those times he couldn't even be mad at Dream because _he did it to himself._

Because of this, George will never know why he was surprised when he realized he wanted more from Dream than just occasional jokes, a few glances and teasing, adrenaline led comments.

"George." Dream said, often, that's all he said or started conversations with. It made George roll his eyes, but it also made his ears red.

Tightening his hold on his sword- -which he knew would do much less damage than Dream's axe, if he mange to land any blows if Dream was in one of his bloodthirsty moods- -George narrows his eyes and glares up at the speedrunner.

He'd like to think it was because he didn't like Dream.

But the sun glinting in his eyes knew better.

"Are you leaving? The sun is about to set."

He got a full sentence, _how lucky._

"Are you going to kill me?" George asks back and Dream scoffs in reply, a low laugh coming from the back of his throat. They both know the answer already, proven by George when he dropped his hand from his sword and pulled off his helmet, holding it under one arm.

It was the desert, he was hot and sweaty and heavy armor just made everything worse.

Sapnap proved that against Dream, it was useless anyway.

Dream continues to grin, mask glinting in the sun that made George wonder yet again what the speedrunner looks like. "Watch the sunset with me, George."

George took a breath in. "You're tricking me."

"I'm not." He laughs, a wheeze in his voice as he speaks through it. "It's up to you. Watch it with me and I'll walk you back in the dark."

For being someone he's supposed to be afraid of that was...oddly comforting.

It's not that George even disliked the dark, it was more about the things in the dark. Giant spiders, zombies, skeletons, Endermen. He wasn't scared of them either, just didn't like them. Being with Dream offered a sense of safety against those things too.

If three trained hunters trying their best couldn't kill him even on a good day, neither could a measly mob.

Surely, he wouldn't go back on his word and let George get hurt either.

Dream might manipulate but he didn't lie.

_George didn't know which was worse._

"Fine." George bites out. "But if I get shot, I get to shoot you."

"Alright." Accepting this easily, the speedrunner jumps from the Desert Temple making George wince. "C'mon on then."

"Stay five feet away."

Dream laughs again, but does as asked, an occasional wheeze giving his amusement away.

The sun fades slowly and George wishes he could see the colors like Dream can, wishes he knew how beautiful everything looked instead of _dead._

But then the night truly kicks in, shaking bones and hissing spiders are heard instead of the slight moos of cows and murmurs of villagers just three hundred feet away where George wondered if Dream has slain the Iron Gollum yet and if not, did the being ever get sick of defending the villagers?

George was safe with Dream.

And he hated it.

Because still, he wasn't sure if Dream was safe with him. If he decided to kill Dream, take out his dagger when he's distracted and finally win, would Dream ever forgive him? Would Dream even respawn?

Would it be worth it?

What's the point anyway -to make Sapnap happy? To prove everyone back home that he's worth something, that the least notable hunter of the group is the one who can slay Dream - _Dream._

He'll later tell himself he didn't do this because then he'd have to answer why Dream let him get so close in such a venerable way, why he didn't fight back or how the speedrunner didn't kill him like Sapnap. That he doesn't want- -or know how- -to answer those questions.

_That's why._

Not because he gets nauseous at the thought. Not because he's actually enjoying this silence between them. 

Not because he likes it when Dream smiles.

Proving himself would have to wait, and wait, and wait. Until when, George didn't know.

He wondered if Dream couldn't kill him either.

That was stupid, of course Dream could kill him. George was sure he would eventually, but it was still hard to believe.

Hard to believe because as they traveled in the dark, Dream broke the space between them and pressed a hand against his lower back, leading him over the terrane in a way that didn't allow the shorter boy to stumble.

Hard to believe because as the torches showed from their camp hours later, Dream squeezed him before letting go, silently letting George walk back alone but still, he knew the speedrunner was behind him, watching, ready to burst into action at the first sight of trouble.

Hard to believe because he risked his life, to walk George back in the dark.


	2. The Nether Makes People Do Dumb Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyyyye back for the second chapter I see. Thank you, thank you! This shit is over three thousand words so I hope all you fuckers are happy. Anywhore, I really appreciate anyone who's reading this, though I doubt many will see it. 
> 
> So onto the story!

George wasn't someone who could tell Dream what to do, but that didn't stop Dream from occasionally letting him set up a boundary.

A moment before they were having a screaming match across the Nether after Dream had killed Bad _just because he could._

Dream was flirting with him, _crudely,_ and when it got to much for George who started to slip close to lava, stammering over his words- -both ignoring how annoyed Sapnap was behind the older man- -Dream just...stopped.

He stopped.

But he did break Sapnap's ankle in a fight and shot George across the cheek with an arrow. It was a skin wound, a warning shot that told them both _leave now before you can't._

That time, Sapnap listened.

George didn't.

A rare occurrence that George didn't know if he'll regret it or not. All he knew was if he died, he respawned anyway. That Bad had already lost all their valuables they collected that day and George had nothing on himself that he couldn't get from their cave in a few days time of work.

He wanted to know why.

So he shouted _"Why am I the only one you bother to flirt with. Why am I the only one you want to affect. Why do you act like we could be friends. Why do you ignore that I'm trying to kill you. Why? What is wrong with you, don't you get it? We can't be together."_ and on that last point, Dream proved him wrong.

The Nether is hot, that's the first thing everyone notes about it. They come through their portal and their body knows _this is a whole new world_ where the humidity is all wrong.

Where hunters rarely wore amour, where fights were lethal with the mobs there alone. Where islands had to be bridged across, cliffs ended in lava instead of water and pigmen wandered the land on a ruthless hunt of gold.

The second thing anyone should know about the Nether is that it changes mindsets of those who are in there.

Maybe it was the heat, or something in the air that even the Endermen that spawned there liked, but either way George knew that it affected everyone.

For Bad, it made him oddly giddy, and suddenly okay bouncing across unstable islands floating above the lava. Sapnap was more temperamental but rather laid back, more unwilling to fight, slower and more of a coward that laughed nervously every time they had to mine through a wall or fight a Hoglin for food.

It made George feverish, a bigger risk taker. Someone who wants to try speed bridging, the first to leap off the edge to land on a Nether Fortress or slay any blaze they find. It also made him do things he wouldn't normally do, or at least have some reserve about.

The hunter doesn't quite know how it affects Dream, but he does know that Dream didn't back down like normal.

But unlike normal, he got _rough._

Dream jumped down from the Nether Fortress onto the slated cliff edge Sapnap had dug out, covering the path through the wall behind them as he ran, thinking with everything that when George stayed, he'd also die.

He had no way of knowing the truth.

That suddenly George was pinned against netherrack and Dream had a tactful thigh pressed between his, that a single calloused hand would grab his both his wrists and hold them above their head as Dream's larger body slid over his own.

It wasn't shocking to George, for some unknown reason, when Dream's lips crashed into his own as one hand braced them against the wall. Their lips slid together until Dream bit down on his bottom lip and then his tongue slipped passed to tangle with his own.

George was gasping into his mouth but _fuck_ Dream tasted so good and _fuck_ it was getting hotter by the second.

Sweat dripped down their bodies and that stupid mask was in the way, Dream apparently thought so too because his hand moved from the wall- -causing his body, that was painfully hot like a furnace, to crush the hunter's smaller one- -and tore off his mask, casting it down to the floor where it laid inches away from the cliff that would send it burning in lava.

The older boy didn't get the chance to look at Dream, really look at him, before their mouths were connecting again, George's back arching, sending Dream's waist against his.

It was all too fast, too much.

Too good.

"We can't be together?" Dream growls, hot breath trailing along his skin sending a shiver rippling along George before he tenses, Dream biting into his shoulder. He bit him. And it hurt, it made him dizzy. But it was pleasure, still, and George liked it. " _Bullshit._ "

George has never wanted to be used like he did then.

He let Dream wrap his free hand in his hair and pull his head back and wreck his body with marks and bruises, with his teeth and tongue and fingers.

It's not like Dream didn't let George touch him either, because there he was -fingers slipping below his green hood to tug on the ends of his hair, his other hand on the back of the larger boy's neck as he pulled him as close as he could. Then, suddenly, Dream's hoodie was being cast over his head and every dip on his chest was pressing against George's chest.

And if the heat in the air wasn't enough to make George feel light headed, this certainly was.

He isn't quite sure what happens, all he knows is one second he was pressed so tight against the wall his lungs shuddered with every breath and the next he was falling and the shriek of a ghast filled the air. Then that rough hand around his wrist tightened and jerked, and George was _snapped!_ to a stop in the air so fast his shoulder ached and he was sure he'd feel this tomorrow as his back slammed into the cliff wall as the lava, popped and hissed below them.

If that wasn't a sign from a universe that _now isn't the time_ George didn't know what a better one could be.

Still dazed, ears ringing and glasses smudged, cracked and twisted against his face at an odd angel, George looks up to the speedrunner to find his stomach slotted against the broken edge, liquid red gushing onto the netherrack and dropping into the lava as his only free hand is holding onto the handle of his trusty axe.

It was a miracle, George knew, that they weren't dead.

That, or he was just underestimating how fast Dream's reflexes truly were -even in situations like that, where he lost control. Because he did, lose control, he knows he did because George had never heard the taller boy willingly make noises like that, he had never let himself go as far to push George enough to endanger him with his words, Dream had never touched him before, not like that.

So it was a mistake, George told himself, a mistake and Dream just had good reflexes.

Neither of them were in their right minds, otherwise this wouldn't have happened.

 _But you could have said no, you could have pushed him away still,_ a small voice reminds him. _You weren't out of control, you wanted him as much as he wanted you._

Now they're on the edge of a cliff and George's heart is pounding in his chest. There's no way Dream can pull himself up without dropping George and before they figure out a way to say them both, his stamina and strength will be gone because of the blood loss.

_He's going to die._

And that wasn't the scary part, George knew. The scary part would be the drop and the split second in the lava where he'd feel his body waste away before he respawned. 

"Dream, Dream!" George pleads, and he doesn't know why. They're both going to die, or Dream's going to drop George, he knew it. He knows that. So why is he pleading like Dream can do something. "Dream, please, Dream. I don't want to fall, Dream. Please!"

"Grab my arm George, and just _don't_ fall." The speedrunner grits out, voice dropping in pain. "I have to grab something from my inventory."

"What! No. Dream-"

"Stop arguing George! It's the only way, my axe is slipping." It really was, the netherrack was crumbling around it and maybe George imagined it but in that moment he felt their bodies drop another inch closer to the lava. "Do you want to survive or not?"

How could he tell Dream it wasn't dying he was worrying about? 

Well -he couldn't. You're not supposed to tell your enemies what you're afraid of, or really that you're afraid at all. George didn't know what Dream is really willing to do to him, or willing to use against him, and he didn't want to find out either.

It took George a few minutes to even move his other arm- -he thought for a brief moment it was broken but then decided to ignore that and wrap both arms around Dream's bicep and his legs wrap around one of Dream's thighs.

Then is when George really started to appreciate their size difference.

Of course, Dream's body was nice to look at and their height difference was nearly comical, and made George mad sometimes when Dream was in a rather playful mood and asked Bad where him and Sapnap was because from the eye contact he was making with the hunter who stood on top of a crafting table, the others weren't visible.

Now that came in handy.

If the tables were turned, they wouldn't last a minute before being cast in the lava.

"Fuck, wait, I got this." Dream pants out, George watches as a potion appears in the hand he had previously wrapped around the older boy's wrist and hold's it at a rather awkward angle to hold it out for George to drink. When half of it is gone, he dips once to hold the end in his own mouth, then it's bottom's up for the fire resistance and Dream is letting the glass shatter onto the netherrack next to his axe. "Do you feel it?"

George did feel it, feel the fire in the pit of his stomach spreading through his veins, not making him immune to lava so much as making him _become_ it.

He didn't like that feeling all too well, didn't like the burn in his throat, the way his own tears seem to evaporate before they ever touch his skin.

After all this time, he's never gotten used to this feeling.

Then again, there wasn't many times he's got the incentive to jump into a giant pool of lava or walk right through fire either.

Choking out a positive reply to Dream, who takes a shuddering breath before bracing his other hand against the netherrack to lift himself off the broken edge before taking his axe immediately into his inventory. The scent of iron stains the air, enough that George manages to catch it as they fall from the edge.

George screams.

Apparently, Dream was prepared for that too because his hand covers the older boy's mouth as they both make contact with the lava. George's ears picked up the burning sound moments later, and he realized Dream didn't get nearly as much of the potion as he had.

But _surely_ if Dream was to die from this, he would have just dropped George and pulled himself onto the ledge. Hell, it would be fucking stupid not to.

As time went on and the two struggled side by side through the thick lava- -that was the thing George tended to forget, how suffocatingly thick lava was compared to water- -to reach the surface.

Above, the white red-stained mask was hanging mockingly on the edge of the netherrack still, there, smiling down at the two.

"George!" Dream reached out to him as soon as they reached the surface. Now all to obviously-blond hair smoking like it's burning though George knew it wasn't, just like his own dark brown hair was, which made both their eyes burn. " _Fuck._ "

Whether he groaned in pain or exasperation, George didn't know but he did know which one he preferred.

He couldn't piece together why Dream did this, why he would throw himself in the lava too, or why he'd even help George in the first place. Just like both the other hunters, he'd respawn and clearly, if he was willing to pick any level of fight with Dream in the Nether of all places, it wasn't likely he had good stuff on him.

It didn't make sense.

Then overhead, came Bad's voice, "Gogy? George? George! Where are you? Are you hiding? Dream's not around, it's safe now! This muffin-"

If it wasn't for the potion coursing through him, for the pounding of his heart at the close way Dream was holding him, George would be paling just at the thought of Bad catching him with Dream like this. _This_ meaning even a blind idiot could tell George wanted to pick up right where they left off, the bravado not having left his body -if he wasn't mistaking the adrenaline for that, anyway.

 _This_ meaning George's body is marked in ways that could barely pass for a fight, his knees still weak and heart racing from Dream, adrenaline pounding in his system from the younger man take him like that against the wall- - _is it taking, if George willingly gave himself up?_ \- -and get so careless to let something as _huge_ as a ghast sneak up on them.

Bad's voice continued to carry further away, Sapnap's joining him at one point as they continued to look through the Nether for their teammate.

George didn't know whether to be relieved or not Sapnap was healed fast enough to be walking around already so he sticks with he's not happy because Sapnap's fucking annoying, instead of because he's doing something he desperately doesn't want them to know he's doing.

What would be their reactions?

Sapnap would most likely snap and hit him for sure, and George? He'd probably let him.

Being the calm one and the one that thinks well, even a little too much, Bad would just be disappointed in him. Maybe he'd silently judge him. He'd definitely tell Skeppy about it, and maybe then George would lose another friend.

Wading through the lava and finding a small platform to stand on together, George is the lookout- -being the only one able to dive back into the lava at this point, if his teammates got close enough to spot them- -as Dream mines a spot for them in the wall to fully heal and clean up after getting his mask down from the cliff edge.

He explained in a not-serious-enough voice that he knew he'd burn, but it was better for his wound to stop bleeding than stopping himself from experiencing something as _silly_ as a burn.

George doesn't think he realized that they _jumped into lava with Dream not knowing how much he'd actually burn._

For being as clever as he was, Dream was really stupid.

After blocking up the wall and George placed a torch, both men were silent. 

It was comfortable in a way, not having Dream press him on the issue or try to fight him to clear suspicion, for that matter. But it was still awkward, being able to feel the throbbing over the marks on his neck and now that his potion wore out, he was able to feel the heat coming off of Dream that he wanted to press himself against.

That wasn't a good idea, and George knew that.

This time he did listen to himself.

Without warning, or his now masked face being able to give anything away, Dream burst into that wheezy too-loud laugh of his. His head thrown back against the netherrack wall, he held his stomach like that what they just went through was the funniest thing in the world.

"That was so-" He continues to wheeze, hand pounding down on his thigh. "-stupid."

George finds himself laughing too, the tension fading out from his body. "Yeah, it was."

Grinning, laughter still lacing his voice, Dream turns to face George. "Want to do it again?"

"You're psychotic! We almost died." It was this moment, despite his amusement, that made George wondered if he was really as clever as he thought or just suicidal enough to do things and hope they worked, or perhaps some strange conversion of both. "Dream-"

"I like when you say my name, George," _Always with the teasing,_ George thought, an eyeroll giving away how much he _wasn't_ impressed. "C'mon. You can't act like that now, not after that."

"What was that, Dream?" George asks instead of properly responding, eyebrow raised as he absentmindedly fiddled with a flower he didn't quite know the color of he had in his inventory he vaguely remember Bad giving to him.

Looking rather unfazed by the entire thing, the speedrunner shrugs. "Which part? Us against that wall, or the ghast. Because the first was you making me rather mad, the second was a mob randomly trying to kill us once, then giving up for literally no reason at all. If you have a guess on that, tell me."

He's so confident in his words that it almost makes George mad. Like, _how can he just say stuff like that?_

The hunter flushes and hates himself for it, but it makes Dream laugh again.

Not knowing the next time he'll be able to hear it, George lets this slide and sits in silence, letting Dream ramble for a bit about the ghast as a subtle subject change that he noted, but didn't bother to say anything about. George was thankful for it.

And he also knows now that now, he'll run when someone tells him to.

George sighs, chin coming down to rest against one of his knees.

_Sapnap is going to be mad..._


	3. Mountains Aren't the Place to Lose Your Temper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my dumbass is back again and here with more! I hope the few of you who read this thoroughly enjoy this, including the little fuck nugget who knows exactly who she is :))

Perhaps it was the fact that it was a rather normal day that seemed to irk George the most. The realization that today, everything was perfect, was what made it seem like something was already wrong.

To him, that had little to do with the fact that something being wrong probably meant Dream was around and Dream being around meant that at night, if George was still awake, there would be an arrow left atop his bed to signal the fact somewhere in the woods, the speedrunner was waiting for him.

That and he already killed any skeleton around.

On days where it was early morning when they'd see each other, there would be a single blue orchid that made George wonder if Dream knew it was his favorite color, or rather the only one he could really see. It was George's fault, really, picking to make their base next to a flower forest biome.

See, these meeting were rarely anything more than Dream somewhere overhead in trees, allowing not even his shadow to be seen as George sits below.

Some days, not even talking is required.

Not actively trying to kill each other shouldn't have been such a romantic feat to George, he knows that, but it doesn't change the tightness in the hunter's chest that says _isn't this something to be happy about?_

Today, however, wasn't one of those days.

But that didn't mean it was a bad one by any means, how could it be? 

Sapnap had gone hunting and brought back enough food to last them the rest of the month easily. Bad had found enough diamonds to make them all swords just by finding an abandoned shipwreck when going fishing in a river none of them knew was deep enough for that.

George himself was lucky today too, he was able to take Sapnap's horse- -not that he asked, just that Sapnap was distracted and couldn't stop him if he tried, so thanks Sapnap for the _generous_ offer- -to a village on the other side of a mountain Bad had found days before. 

From the looks of it, Dream hadn't raided any of it and left the traders alone, which was good news for the trio as they were in desperate need of an anvil to repair their tools.

They were also trying to get two Ender chests. They were outrageously expensive, even if you didn't buy one and just got the materials needed for it, but they all knew that it would be worth it.

If one of them brought it with them whenever the three went on a mission together and the other stayed at their base, they'd never have to lose so much resources to Dream again even if they did die.

The villagers were always happy to have guests, even if the Iron Gollum wasn't too keen on the idea if his angry grunts were anything to go by. In this village, there was a blacksmith who had exactly what George wanted.

Though, it came at too steep of a price.

"Two stacks of gold? Two stacks! You must be out of your mind." George snapped, but the blacksmith only gave him a blank stare, hands places pliantly on top of his counter. "Come on."

He knew they weren't ever up for conversations, just down to business, but the silence only frustrated him more.

_Why couldn't Bad do this?_

As sweet as he was, Bad could be straight up scary when he wanted something bad enough. The hunter was a good negotiator and even better at just _taking._ George had a habit of not using enough brute force, in Bad's opinion. Sometimes you had to do things like that when you're on a mission like this. When it's killed or be killed, you do everything you can not to die. 

Apparently, George didn't get the memo.

Sapnap would just say that George couldn't use brute force even if he wanted to -George could here it now, in that teasingly sweet voice of his, "Petite little Georgie trying to fight a villager, awh." which would most likely be followed by one of those half-giddy giggles of his.

It made him mad.

Stomping of the blacksmith- -all too aware he'd have to go mining _all_ _fucking night_ just to get the gold to pay for that anvil and have to face that stupid villager again- -George is already half contemplating riding all the way back to camp empty handed and getting Bad to help.

Him and Sapnap would definitely get into a fight over that but to George, that's not even a viable reason not to do exactly that, seeing as they'd end up fighting over something anyway.

It's because that would be, well, _pathetic._

He was capable of getting that much gold, especially because he knew there was an abandoned mineshaft under the mountain who's entrance he saw on the edge of the cliff. He'd have to leave Joffrey- -the stupid name Sapnap chose for his horse- -at the village, and pay for that too.

This day wasn't perfect but he was still getting what he wanted, and annoying Sapnap at the same time -which was preferable.

The hunter was in a mood today.

Having to track through the mountains, squabble with a blacksmith and have to prepare to go mining definitely didn't help. If only he knew why he was upset, then maybe he could help himself more and maybe bargain with the blacksmith like Bad could.

Or he could go back and spar with Sapnap, who was always up to the challenge.

Unless his boyfriend was around, anyway, then he left the challenges up to Bad, took care of the one he loves and decided to be a problem in only the sickeningly sweet still-annoying kind of way. Karl was like that -he could turn any stressful situation into a good laugh, he's not always the most confident person and can get quite awkward to be around at certain times but he was a good guy.

And if George actually liked Sapnap when Karl was around, well, nobody could prove that.

Paying the stable hand the emeralds he wanted, the hunter leaves Joffrey with him and sighs as he turns back to the mountain. He figures it would be easier to first clear out the abandoned mineshaft than try to collect all the gold himself.

George really used to love being a hunter. He used to love how all three of their voices filled their campsite at night as they planned hunts, and how fighting with Sapnap started with laughter instead of curses, how Bad used to laugh more things off rather than hold weekly meetings saying _"Are we all still in this? Have any of us given up yet? Are we all okay?"_

He doesn't know exactly when the love died, when the adrenaline rush wasn't enough, but he's assuming it was sometime between the threat of three becoming two and whenever the hell their voices carrying around a packed tunnel through netherrack filled him with anxiety. When Dream tricked them and Sapnap and his screams combined became too loud, too much.

It's something about not knowing what it is about neither of them questioning his absence in activities around the camp or his previously fulltime agenda of trying to kill Dream as much as he could.

About how he's disappearing more and dying less, which if the sudden change in his schedule was noticeable or not, the gifts he so clearly would receive should be enough to raise eyebrows. 

But George has been feeling like a walking corpse for months now every time one of his teammates say _today's the day Dream dies_ and he will continue to decay while they both say he's thriving through these fights.

The only time he seems to thrive is when Dream's around.

Dream pushes him for success, pushes him to prove that he's good enough to fight, that he's stronger and better than anyone thinks.

The connection between Dream and George isn't just clean axes and empty potion bottles, it isn't just blue orchids laying on pillows or safety on the edge of a cliff. It's the emptiness of the night turning into hearts slipping down a path of romance that neither are prepared for, but one neither will be able to throw away.

It's small talks and sunsets and wondering if Dream will find him alone in the mineshaft and run a hand along his back, or push him against another wall, or if he'll leave him to mine and just sit there cracking jokes under his breath.

Even Sapnap and Bad could tell that Dream was keeping tabs on all of them, he was too aware of their surroundings and too ready for fights at every moment that him not being would be impossible. George could tell more than them though, he could _feel_ when Dream was around.

It was kind of infuriating.

All because most times, Dream never came up to him. He didn't show himself. And if George- -even being as subtle as he could be- -ever tried to find him, the speedrunner just...vanished.

Both the cave and mineshaft was stripped of resources that could help George, and he was just a quarter stack shy of reaching his goal. It was already the next day, he had taken a break previously to explore a witch hut for any possible potions or antidotes he thought the team might need.

The hunters had a system, if one of them wasn't back within four days or didn't respawn, something was wrong. The last time this happened, Bad was trapped in the Nether because his portal broke and had too much valuables to respawn or leave for Dream- -who was trapped with him- -to find in a chest, or laying next to the portal.

So George had enough time to get everything he needed, and even bring back the diamonds they'd need to create Ender chests.

At this point he wasn't considering giving up _or_ asking Bad for help and he really wasn't that angry anymore.

Or at least, he didn't realize he was.

Not until Dream's hooded figure jumped from the top of the third cave he's had to explore in the last two hours trying to find gold and he locked eyes with the stupid smiley face carved into the mask and _scoffed._

If Dream could tell he was getting sick of the mask- -which he had a sneaking suspicion he could- -he didn't say anything.

"George."

George rolls his eyes and keeps strip mining, disappearing behind a wall of smooth stone seconds later.

The speedrunner murmurs something the hunter can barely make out as "Oh come on now." as he collects himself and walks forward towards the older boy.

"What do you need?"

Contemplating ignoring the other, but realizing he doesn't have any real basis to be mad, George paused for a moment before replying. "Gold. For a trade."

_So my team can try to kill you easier._

Should that have made him feel guilty? George thought so, but if he managed to let himself feel that he supposed he'd have to double the guilt for not telling Bad and Sapnap about his rendezvous meetings and kissing Dream. Which he definitely wasn't about to do.

"Well I don't have gold, but I do have something for you." He could hear the smirk in Dream's voice, and it peaked his interest almost instantly but he tried not to show it. "This time, I get to hand it to you though. You'll like it, George."

For a while, George really had to think about his fascination with Dream. He came to the conclusion that it's because Dream _wasn't_ the hero of this story -not because he had the potential to be one.

Because George was the only person who ever stirred Dream into changing, into becoming more than the monster he knows he's seen as.

A hero would sacrifice him to save the world, kill him to get to Dream, showing that they have pure intentions, that they're honest in the work they do.

But a villain?

A villain would tear apart anyone if he was hurt, he would promise him the world even if they had to burn it down. At time they could seem selfish or cruel, they're manipulative and charming when need be but when they love someone they're soft, and playful.

Dream was a puppet master, a chess player, pushing and pulling in every which way.

That doesn't mean he's not misjudged, that he's not quite the monster everyone thinks. George doesn't know his story, if he has any family, if he's doing this to fight for someone either. Maybe them, the hunters, the supposed heroes of this tale wouldn't seem so full of glory if Dream was the one people listened to. 

Monsters are made, not born.

Anyone willing to do the things he is, to be confused and concussed, to be abused incidentally would not have the time to mourn for himself or think about how he's willingly torturing himself until he finally dies.

_Was there ever a time Dream wasn't as strong as he seems now?_

Because now, against that wall grinning ear to ear, he looks so proud holding that blue orchid out for George.

_Now, he is strong. Ungodly so._

George takes the flower.

_And now?_

_He's the villain._


	4. Everyone Knows Rain Makes Flowers Grow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am, torturing myself for all of your entertainment, that being said to the select and amazing few who are here, enjoy!

When they’re both in the relatively same situation- -nobody could deny Dream hunted George’s team just as much, if not more and more effectively than they hunted him- -it was almost amusing to see how they all handled it. Not everyone's scary situations and trauma makes them tough and untouchable. 

Bad tried his best to gather resources, to be a helper and make sure everyone was okay but when it came to George and Sapnap, he didn’t let them help him all that much either. He relied on Skeppy, who wasn’t even there, to take care of his problems.

Sapnap handled it the best, George thinks, as he let everyone help him and helped everyone, at the same time he always kept a good relationship with Karl and never ignored his close friend, Quackity, either. It was annoying how many people liked it, and almost annoying that the temperamental man was such a good man too.

But for George it didn’t give him the same thick skin it gave Dream, they were perhaps on the opposite sides of the spectrum. If someone raises their hand at him now, he submits and is willing to take any blows whether they’re physical or verbal, as long as he won’t die, as long as he thinks he deserves it. If someone is talking poorly about him, namely Sapnap, he just lets it happen.

Meanwhile, if you insult Dream he doesn’t take it, he’ll argue tooth and nail that he deserves everything he has. That yes, some of it is luck, but you also have to take the opportunities you’re given and run with them -that that’s exactly what the speedrunner did. How he wouldn’t flinch, and would catch your hand instead of accept it.

Though he still gets overwhelmed and distracted, he still needs reminders to focus on things outside of life on the run.

To forget the threats around him for just a moment.

And relax in the sun.

George, occasionally, allowed him to do just that.

Above their head the air rumbled with far away thunder but there wasn't much of a cloud in sight, the whispers of white barely able to be picked apart next to the stark cobalt of the plain sky and George is laying in the open field of a flower biome he could smell more than he could see.

Dream lay at his side.

It was one of those days where Sapnap had exhausted himself trying to find the speedrunner, not knowing that very same man was not a hundred feet at him, waiting for a moment of peace where he could see George alone. 

A day when Bad didn't come out of his tent, reading an influx of letters from his now-husband. He was an emotional, thoughtful man and when Skeppy wasn't here to be yelled at for making him blush, well, there wasn't anything for Bad to do but to hide away, hold a few crumbling pieces of paper to his chest as feel everything all at once.

Dream's rough-padded fingertips traced a tender trail along George's abdomen, as neither man were willing to put up the pretense of fighting. It wasn't worth it anymore. George let Dream touch him, laying on his back, arms crossed under his head. 

The beginning of a promise was starting to take place as the little moments like this started to feel big. 

Just the fact that Dream never killed him turned into the vow he wouldn't let him die, and the fact George never told the hunters where Dream was turned into the fact that he'd always want to meet him when he could.

As much as it pained him to admit it, the words they'd share felt more intimate than any touch, as annoyingly cheesy as George knew that sounded. He couldn't exactly help it. 

Not when Dream had laughed while telling him about his sisters and how serious his mom could sound while telling a joke, when now he knows that Dream's favorite food is just 'sandwiches' and he likes coffee though he rarely drinks it. How now, he knows Dream has ADHD and sometimes doesn't know what to do with himself in moments nobody else is overwhelmed by just... _existing._

George was able to tell Dream how he was now used to respawning, how it was never traumatizing anymore. 

How he'd learn to break and mend, and break and mend, and break and mind and rise up again, in the same bed every time. How sometimes, he'd be scared he'd respawn missing pieces of himself, or he'd be trapped in a constant loop of dying over and over again not being able to stop. 

Dream told him he'd never let that happen and George? George believed him.

It was at moments like this, when it started raining, the sweet drizzle of the warm mid-summer rain felt all too appropriate. Neither man stood up, just accepted their fate of getting wet as the smell of flowers traded out for that of fresh rain-water. 

They knew both their socks would get wet. 

Not being able to help himself, Dream laughs and rolls more onto his side, arm sliding around George's waist as he befriends the rain washed air. 

"Where did the clouds come from, George?" The speedrunner wheezes out, his contagious laugh making George chuckle and smile. It was rare he got to do soft things like this, to smile for no reason. It wasn't even a joke, and here he was, laughing just because Dream said something.

"Does it matter?" George scoffs in reply. "It's still raining."

Dream laughs again, for a briefer moment this time, and rolls himself to sit up next to the smaller hunter with a wide grin still able to be seen beneath his mask. 

Any other day, George would be content staying still in the grass and feeling the rain fall. He would have stopped and looked through the flowers, trying to best their colors best he could. He would have admired the beauty of the world he rarely ever observes, and he'd stay there until the sun set or Bad called him back to camp.

Today, however, George didn't do that. Because today Dream was sitting in front of him and George couldn't bother with the flowers, he didn't care about the rain or the cloud, he didn't mind the feeling of being watched through that stupid mask. He might be in danger here, and he didn't care.

"C'mon, George!" Dream laughs out. "Don't you want to _feel_ this rain? It's refreshing."

"I was moving all day, Dream. I _feel_ that. Can't we stay sitting?" George whines, pulling on Dream's forearm. "How are you just never tired?"

The speedrunner snorts, using the same arm George has his hands wrapped around to pull the older boy up before wrapping it around the small of George's back. "I get tired, I just don't whine about it like you."

George huffs, pushing a hand on Dream's chest to hopefully disconnect their two bodies but it didn't do much. This time, when they weren't dangling over a giant pool of lava, the hunter was perfectly fine cursing their size differences. Because Dream didn't budge, and his smile grew.

"Just say you want to be here," Dream only whines back in reply, not liking how the hunter had pushed him away. Burying his face in George's neck, Dreams arms wrap fully around him causing his wet hood to brush annoyingly against his face. "Just say you want _me._ You know you do."

"Shut up, Dream." He could feel his face heating up, and hated how pink he was turning, all because suddenly the rain wasn't cold enough. "I'm here, isn't that enough?"

The taller boy shakes his head, the edge of the mask resting on George's shoulder as Dream's hot breath brushed his collarbone. "I want more."

If only George could control his body like Dream, then he wouldn't be so goddamn red when the younger and albeit less mature boy is just holding onto him like it's nothing, snickering in his ear as he feels the heat growing even down George's neck.

 _Revenge_ is what's on George's mind as he takes in the slippery grass under him and the loosening of Dream's arms. 

This leads him to make a split second decision and push on the speedrunner's chest the same time his ankle wraps around the other's, making him fall flat on his back with a solid and rather satisfying _thud!_

For a solid moment Dream didn't move, apparently surprised by what George did, so much so that George thought he was almost going to get away with it and started to take a step back from the fallen boy.

In that very moment, Dream snapped up and grabbed onto one of the hunter's ankle -yanking hard enough that both of George's knees give out and he falls straight to the ground.

Or rather, right on top of Dream.

Dream laughs for a second before the gravity of the situation hits him, when George being on his lap stops being a joke and starts to become intimate. Gripping his hips, Dream sighs out and the mask is back against his shoulder, but this time rather soft blond hair is what's invading George's features.

Suddenly, instead of the rain, it's just Dream. 

It was all that George could focus on, Dream's body against his.

Then, without even noticing he told his body to move, George slipped a hand behind Dream's neck, leaned in and kissed Dream. Dream kissed back and held the older boy closer to him. Body sliding against him, warm lips slotted against his own...it was overwhelming.

Don't get George wrong, pleasure is pleasure, but this wasn't rushed.

This was a sweet, slow, sappy kind of kiss you don't share with people you're expecting to randomly hook up with. This was the kind of kiss lovers shared.

And that realization is what makes George gasp.

Dream doesn't mind, in fact he slips his thumbs between the hem of George's pants and his shirt and begins to rub gentle circles into the hunter's hips. With one hand coming up to Dream's jaw, George accepted his hopeless fate with the speedrunner, and kissed him harder.

What would it take to get Dream to just use him -no emotions attached? Was that possible. 

_Is it possible that's what he's already doing?_

Not letting himself overthink and ruin the moment- -even if a part of his subconscious was begging George to get up a run, to tell the other two hunters where Dream is- -George focuses back into the warm feeling spreading throughout his body.

Well, the warm feeling _and_ how annoying Dream's mask was starting to be.

But it wasn't like he could just rip it off.

"George." Dream's voice drops into a gruffer accent than George is used to, as they had both paused but stayed together, mouths a breath away as apparently, the blond caught on to one of George's inner dilemmas. "You can."

 _You can take off my mask,_ is what Dream said.

But what it really meant was, _I trust you._

It came with the stark realization that there was no Nether-tainted-air to blame this time, no Ghast to knock him out of it, no voice in the back of his head saying _I just lost control_ and nothing to say _this isn't the time._

Because here he was -kissing Dream for no reason other than to kiss him.

Not going to argue because honestly, who in their right minds would, George holds his breath as he tugs on the back of the tie, easily moving it away from the other boy's hair. Dream didn't react, as far as George could tell anyway, when the mask fell into the wet grass.

For a moment, the only sound was the rain and the wind.

The whistle through the flowers, the _'ping, ping, ping'_ of the droplets on the mask, the rain hitting George himself stole his attention for a single moment.

That was before he really got a look at Dream, and he forgot how to breathe -cursing himself for holding his breath in the first place. He's seen glimpses of the man, given those were in a very stressful situation when adrenaline was pumping through him and George probably couldn't describe Dream after that if it would save his life.

Dream had freckles.

That was, perhaps, the first thing George really noticed. He didn't nessicarily know why he was a little surprised about that. To him, it was a reminder of an adolescence and innocence George knew they both once had, but neither possessed anymore.

Nothing in the world could make Dream an innocent person anymore.

Yet there he was, smiling at George with that stupid foolish glint in his eyes- -that from the weird yellow color the hunter saw, he was guessing are green- -like he's just teasing him with something. Like there weren't scars on his face, some of which George knew he put there.

The speedrunner didn't respawn, his scars don't disappear, his injuries don't heal instantly, without pain.

Maybe that's why George didn't like Sapnap calling Dream a god, or a seemingly immortal monster, because god's don't bleed.

They don't know how.

And Dream always has such a good way of reminding the hunters that _he'll bleed for better reasons than them this year._

"Dream," George laughs as Dream tugs on his hips, knowing the other boy kept getting lost in his thoughts, to pin their chests together. "Let go!"

Dream laughs, god his stupid contagious laugh, and smiles even as he leans in the peck George on the cheek. He's teasing him, George knows this and despite not wanting to give Dream the satisfaction of knowing everything he's doing is working, he still blushes furiously.

Rolling his eyes, the older boy wraps his arms around Dream's neck prompting him to wrap his arms around George's waist, sighing contently.

"Stay with me tonight, George." Murmuring this against George's collarbone, Dream finishes his suggestion- -plead?- -with a kiss against the other's Adam's apple. "We can watch the sunrise this time."

"They'll get suspicious."

The hunter himself didn't know if he was making an excuse not to actually seem suspicious (though if that was the reason, staying outside all night in the rain definitely already wasn't helping) or if he was stopping himself from being alone with drink long enough to do something he doesn't doubt he'll regret.

Maybe regret wasn't the right word.

_Guilty._

He'd feel guilty. And probably be sore. That being a combination would definitely raise suspicion of Bad, who always took it upon himself to make sure both his teammates were okay before they did any task.

To either of their knowledge, George had nothing to do tonight.

Dream pulls far away enough from George to let the hunter see his questioning glance and raised eyebrow, "If they're going to get suspicious over that you've been out long enough for no reason that they already are."

That was an annoyingly decent point.

The taller boy chuckles, fingers splaying out teasingly along George's hips as a cocky smirk pulled at his kiss-bruised mouth. "Aw, George, are you scared to be along with me?"

"N-no!" George sputters, placing a hand on Dream's chest to push him away. "You're absurd."

Raising a hand to brush a knuckle along George's quickly flushing cheeks, Dream laughs again and shakes his head at the hunter. "You're so red!"

"Shut up!"

Dream just laughs again and it makes George giggle to himself, face-planting into his shoulder as the rain continues to pelt down gently on the two.

George, whether he agreed to it or not, did fall asleep in Dream's arms that night. Dream, risking being caught, carried the older boy all the way back to his bed before leaving.

Unbeknown to George, he stole something of Bad's.

And unknown to Bad, it was originally his.


	5. The Jungle Doesn't Have Room for All of That Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo how are you all enjoying this so far? Ready for a bit of fighting I hope

Through this entire manhunt, Sapnap has kept a secret from his team.

Maybe it didn't mean anything, in the long run, or maybe it meant everything and he was just oblivious about that fact. Not even Karl knows.

There was a time before Dream, when Sapnap wasn't a hunter. He was just a kid in a village having fun, finding different things to do and jumping from place to place on dares.

And this kid had a best friend.

The first thing anyone needs to know about the two is that they were inseparable. Tied at the hip. If one got in trouble, you'd bet the other was close behind and just managed not to get caught. They'd fight, of course, as kids do. That never meant they weren't friends.

But then those kids had to grow up.

Life pulled them apart, one's father left and he had to take care of his mother and sisters. He got involved in the wrong crowd, and when his best friend learned his was working for the Blood God -that was the last straw. Technoblade really was a monster, an immortal pigman who's desire went past gold, to blood. He was insatiable.

Yet he paid well.

The town was at risk now, a new villain, one that could die and be caught. One that even, maybe, could change. One kid became that villain.

And the other became the hunter.

They were still best friends, even after all this time because that kid's mom always said _to be known is to be loved._ Maybe they didn't know each other like they used too, but that didn't matter much now, did it? Now when Sapnap has survived enough trauma to come out the other end furious and spitting blood, who might not be handling it right but he's still doing their best.

Now when there's still leftover information about his best friend like how he still knows his favorite season, and how to walk to his house from his own, his favorite food and ice cream flavors. How he's gay, but still chose the name of his kids by the time he was thirteen. He still remembers the mental disorder his mom has, the ages and birthdays of his sisters. He remembers how much he likes to sing with his mom.

Where could Sapnap put this information down? Where could he learn to forget?

Now when _Clay_ became _Dream._

Because everyone has that one weird pretty big secret that they don't really hide, but don't flaunt either. Like "My parents don't like me." or "I'm gay." or "Sometimes I want to kill myself." or even, "I miss them." and even if it's not big, when you find out that one plot twist in the other's life you know you're in the friendship for the long run.

Sapnap and Dream got to that point long ago.

Even after Sapnap became Dream's hunter, and they vowed to kill each other even when never knowing when the last time they could respawn came, they lived following the same habits for two years before Bad joined the team.

Having small talks between fights, that started with _what's really the point anymore_ and ended with _don't you know how much you hurt me?_

Sapnap can't really remember the conversations they've had- -thought he's sure there were days they didn't speak at all- -but sometimes he'll see things from his past with Dream's fingerprints all over it like a monument of their friendship made out of thin air.

Having three people hunt you couldn't have been easy, hell, being one of the hunters made _him_ feel guilty. It's clear that Dream felt guilty too, in one way or another.

It's how they look at each other, always from side ways glances, never with direct eye contact. How the way they'd move and talk and fight now, _god they always fight now,_ always seemed like a rehearsed play as they preformed the same routine over again every day, repeating the same speech every time.

But Sapnap doesn't know what his lines are and Dream won't tell him.

His day was going as usual, _Sapnap was hunting Dream._

And he knew his team would say he's the most bloodthirsty one, that he has this odd vengeance in his mind that ends with that stupid mask on the floor and the speedrunner's throat pressed against a knife.

That wasn't exactly true.

Unlike them, he was the only one certain (he had no proof) that Dream would respawn. He knew there was hope.

He knew this was exactly what Technoblade wanted -for them to rip each other to shreds. To see how this plays out, to be the orchestrater of this play. Violence was a universal language; something they all spoke yet the only one fluent is _him._

_Maybe the day Dream dies is the day Technoblade will set him free, rip him from the shackles he so desperately pulls at._

If that was the real reason Sapnap wanted Dream dead so bad, well, nobody would ever know.

Today was a day that didn't bring much comfort to the team at all, they tracked Dream to a jungle they didn't know why he was in. They knew the speedrunner was searching for something, what they didn't know. All they knew was that they probably should stop him from getting it, if it was meant to help him.

Strangely, today the team seemed...different, in a way.

George was strangely unmotivated and was complaining more than usual- -though Sapnap himself found that detail hard to believe- -about anything to the vines in their way and didn't even stop to try and make a parrot his pet. Bad himself wasn't really in the mood for a hunt, though being the temperamental man that he is, Sapnap could tell he _was_ in the mood for a fight.

The humid atmosphere of the jungle couldn't keep the tension within itself and soon, all three of them were arguing. It was stranger, still, because Sapnap couldn't tell what they were arguing about.

It was like the three of them were screaming their own conversations at the other two, hoping it was understandable. Soon it just faded into white noise.

At that moment it was clear-

_None of them wanted to be there._

Which was a stark contrast of the early days of the team, where Bad had just started to be comfortable with Sapnap but then George joined and it all felt awkward but they were all so ready to be the ones to kill Dream. They spend their days on runs and seeing what traps might work against the speedrunner. Being heroes sounded nice to them, but it wasn't really the goal at first.

Being part of a team, proving themselves, being more than the insignificant boys they were back home.

Sapnap found love moving from place to place, Bad's relationship with Skeppy strengthened over the time they were forced to spend apart -forced to adapt, get over any insecurities they had with one another. 

And George's greatest love he found so far, was with himself. He learned how to be proud of him, to provide for his family without help, to stick up for himself and say _this is what I want, and this is how I'm going to get it_ and try his damn best to follow through.

It was the most anyone could ask of the three of them.

Yet, compared to Dream, it still wasn't enough.

Sapnap knew he was doing this for a good reason, Bad knew he was such a confident asshole about everything that there wasn't a way in hell that speedrunner didn't care about himself or have any insecurities in the way and George, well, George knew all about his love life.

Given, more than he should, but he wasn't about to tell the other two about that.

Three men arguing, loudly, was bound to draw attention and they all knew that. 

But they didn't quite comprehend that just because the three of them weren't working the best together and couldn't keep their mouths shut it didn't mean that Dream wasn't on his 'A game' either. In fact, none of them thought much about the fact that Dream was there to kill, chase off or steal from either.

Not until Dream popped out from behind a giant jungle tree, arms crossed. He seemed more than peeved, not to mention his mask was being lifted up slightly -allowing him to get a better view of the hunters.

He didn't even need one.

The speedrunner was clearly just showing them that they were doing something wrong, a silent scolding.

Being scolded by the man you're supposed to be killing isn't really the best feeling in the world.

Sapnap, feeling the shame and the slight absurdity of the situation, lets out a small half-giggle that makes George glare at him.

"We're going to get our asses kicked." Hissed George.

Getting a sharp "Language!" from Bad was rather normal at this point, as was the smirk Sapnap sent him.

" _You're_ going to get your ass kicked." The temperamental hunter says, tightening the bandana around his head. " _I_ can hold my own."

He could feel the smugness radiating off of Dream as he said that, and he heard the scoff from under his breath. Dream's way of saying _no you can't._

Startling his teammates, Bad is the first one to rush Dream, coming in bow first -something Dream blocks expertly with his shield. Dodging as he moves back a few steps, but not letting himself get pinned to the trees.

"Bad, don't!" Sapnap shouts, blocking George with an arm from helping the usually-reserved hunter from making the first big mistake of the night. "You told us not to engage."

"Yeah Bad," Comes Dream's taunting reply -mocking Sapnap more than he's teasing Bad. "Don't engage."

George, annoyingly, was the one to pull on Sapnap to move him to a small dugout in the ground between the edge of a small hill and a fall tree, where they could watch from the sliver of a massive root nearly torn from the ground.

The hunter didn't listen and got closer, and closer swinging his sword that it didn't surprise any of them when Dream made a move back at Bad -his axe coming down hard onto the shield Bad barely raised in time. Swinging around, the two hooded figures dancing in the darkness the jungle canopy provided, it almost felt like a dream to watch.

That was until Dream's axe overtook Bad's sword, the hunter's bow snapped in half, and the sound of a neck breaking was heard all throughout the jungle.

Sapnap saw George flinch, but neither dared to make a move from the small dugout.

They weren't ready for Dream to confront them, not by a longshot. Why they thought catching Dream in the middle of a rocky terrane where there were hundred of places to hide and not enough solid fighting grounds was a good idea, Sapnap will never know.

"I don't know about this fight George, I really don't." Hand tightening on his shield, Sapnap glances at George then back between the gap where Dream was, standing in a proud straight line. "He's not even hurt!"

"Don't sound so disappointed," The speedrunner says, humor in his voice. "I might start thinking you don't like me."

That had a double meaning and they both knew it.

Neither hunter replied, it was useless anyway, as far as Sapnap knew. They'd either die here, or Dream would vanish again.

"I'm not really in the mood for fighting right now." 

Saying this was annoying in a way, to Sapnap, because yes, the fight with Bad was short. Unfairly so. But did that just mean the long, drawn out fights with them was Dream going easy on them? Did they just get lucky some day? Dream was manipulating them again, and knowing he was doing so was one of the most frustrating things in the world. 

Dream knew that too. 

In all their years of friendship and becoming enemies, Sapnap never forgot how easily Dream could become a double edged sword.

"How about this...I give you each, hmm, thirty seconds to get out of my shooting distance and if you make it, I'll let you live. If not, I'll kill you and loot your stuff. Funny, how the tables turned on this little _adventure_ isn't it?"

"Sapnap?" George says this like it's his choice if they, if _he,_ lives.

"Don't ask me!" That nervous giggle was back and George frowned like he wasn't taking this seriously, when in actuality, Sapnap was probably the most vital and skilled part of the team. "What do you say?"

"Me?" There was a pause, as if George was considering if Sapnap meant something more before he shook his head and motioned with his chin. "Let's run."

So they did.

And Sapnap wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but he sore that he never saw a single one of Dream's arrows testing his aiming distance.

Dream was acting different, he was changing.

_Maybe they all were._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any theories on what was stolen last chapter?


End file.
